JUDY: "Rudy, Donatella made this handbag: the $43,000 one. If that thing isn't in my suite by 5 PM, I'll be on the phone to Raoul Felder faster than you can say, 'Christine Lategano.'"
RUDY: "Yes, dear."
JUDY: "And I wanta Donatella to do the inside of a jet for me, too. And fuck you if you don't like what it costs. Get those cocksuckers at the NRA to donate the money."
RUDY: "Yes, dear."
JUDY: "And where is my coat? Lagerfeld promises me a one-of-a-kind mink that I could wear to the Columbus Day parade. What do you think I'm gonna do, Rudy? Parade down Fifth Avenue in some schmata with your Guinea Dago Wop friends looking like some piece of trash from Bumfuck, USA?"
RUDY: "But you are..."
JUDY: (to assistant) "OMYGOD! Get me Raoul Felder NOW!"
RUDY: "Okay, honey. Settle down now."
JUDY: "And by the way, with regard to Father's Day ... I don't care if it's Father's Day. I don't care if you're their father. And I don't care that you're running for president. I won't spend one more minute with those miserable brats of yours than I have to."
RUDY: "But Judy ..."
JUDY: "No. No. NO. That daughter of yours. Going to Harvard. I bet she thinks she's better than me. Does she have a $43,000 Versace handbag? Does she have the best plastic sur -- oops! I mean the best doctor on Park Avenue? Does she have ..."
RUDY: "Judy, they're my k..."
JUDY: "I don't care what they are! Look how you've upset me! You've given me a splitting headache! You've given me esophageal cancer! You've given me crotch-rot! I need my dogs now! I need some Cristal! I NEED MY OWN JET, GODDAMNIT!"
RUDY: "But Judy, I gave you a tiara! A tiara. Do you know how much hay they're making with that damn thing?
JUDY: (snorts) "A tiara! A tiara, he gave me! Who cares about a goddamned tiara? Every third yenta in the Beltway has tiara and he says, 'I gave you a tiara.'" What have you given me lately, you fucking pipsqueak? WHAT?!"
RUDY: (utterly defeated) "I...I gave you ... I took you ... I..."
JUDY: "You gave me nothing. You took me nowhere. And I have to watch that Wal-Mart trash Jeri Thompson, with those Home Depot boobs prancing all over the place while you tell me, 'No Judy, you stay home. We've got some bad press lately." Well, fuck you, Rudy. I'm going shopping. IN ITALY."